Loan Loses It
by Horthien
Summary: Loan Loud, mentally speaking, is a mess. She has paranoia, finds it hard to trust even those close to her, and sometimes even hears faint voices in her head. What happens, then, when she enters a fit a hysteria and accidentally commits the one crime that is absolutely unforgivable?
1. Loan goes to the park, mistakes are made

Loan Loud was twenty-one years old, had no job, and was still living with her parents.

It wasn't _completely_ her fault, though. She had extreme paranoia, found it hard to trust even those close to her, and sometimes even heard faint voices in her head. These attributes had been weighing down on her for her entire life. They made it hard for Loan to make friends, let alone for her to function properly in society.

She tried not to let it bother her. Keyword: _tried_. Still, she couldn't help but to often fantasize what it would be like to be _normal_ , to not be so mentally handicapped.

The best coping mechanism she had found was in video games. For hours a day, she played on her console in front of the television. Growing up, she had never personally seen the appeal in spending hours in front of a screen—believe it or not, she used to _love_ the outdoors, back before her anxiety and agoraphobia developed, of course—but that quickly changed starting to moment that her father first introduced them to her.

It was a sunny day, perfect for Loan to beg her parents to take her down the block where the town park was, but, of course, _that_ wasn't going to happen.

"Cleaning day!" Dad announced, marching into the kitchen while Loan and her sisters were eating breakfast. She was seven, and her sister Liena, five, pouted.

"I don't wanna clean!" she hit the table in protest.

Loan joined in. "We should go to the _park!_ "

"Now, now," Dad said, picking up Liena and putting her on his lap. He ruffled Loan's hair. "There's time for fun, but there's also time for work. When you two get older, you're going to be pitching in to help with the household chores a lot more. Right now, though, I only ask that you give me a hand upstairs in the attic. How does that sound?"

Loan, too, pouted. She crossed her arms in silent protest.

"Tell you what," Dad said, picking up Leina and sitting her back down on the chair. He went over to the kitchen counter, kissed Mom good morning, and grabbed a plate. "If you two help… I may just have to take you both to Dairy Queen." He smiled, a grin of victory, and began to shovel bacon and eggs on his plate.

Both Loan and Liena squealed in glee. Dairy Queen was their absolute favorite place to go. The last time Loan had gone, she had eaten her ice cream gone so quickly that she had gotten it all over her face; some even managed to find its way into her hair. She was sticky, and needed to take a _long_ shower that night.

Later that day, when Loan was dusting off boxes, she heard Dad gasp from on the other side of the room. She turned around, frightened. Had he stumbled across something bad? A _spider?_ A _snake?_ Snakes were slimy and scary. Dad wouldn't gasp at just _anything_. It had to be a snake; she had to go _help_ him.

She scurried across the attic, her bare feet making light patters on the wooden floor. Loan ran so fast that she almost tripped over her own feet. When she came to Dad, however, there was no snake, nor even a spider. He was looking at a box.

"I was _wondering_ where this went!" he cried.

The box in question was cardboard and marked _Lincoln's Gaming Shit_. Dad blushed and turned Loan around so she couldn't stare at the 'bad word', he called it.

"Aunt Lisa has a very, uh… colorful vocabulary."

Downstairs, Dad set down the box (the tape with the label written on it had been ripped off). "Every day, I spent _hours_ on this thing when I was your age," he said, opening the flaps. They worked together to set it up ( _Loan, can you hand me the blue wire? ...That's not blue, sweetie, that's purple_ ) and Loan had been addicted ever since.

It was funny, not really in a comedic way, but in a poetic way; because she had agreed to help her father clean the attic, Loan had begun to transform to an outdoor loving little girl (the fields, she remembered, had been her favorite. She loved to run free, especially without her shoes and socks on, through the fields, especially the corn fields. Usually, when Loan got sad, it was because she was nostalgic; it could be something as simple as mom shucking corn for dinner—she recalled the smell of the corn, intoxicating, overpowering, and the _freedom_ it brought her. She could close her eyes, run at full speed, arms freely frailing behind her, and feel the _true_ catalyst of youth, of childhood) to an outdoor _hating_ girl.

It wasn't that she immediately grew to dislike going outside. No, that change was gradual, and happened mostly because of her rapidly developing fear of wide, open spaces.

 _Now_ , look at her. Presently, her hair was a mess, she was sitting in a slumped posture in from of the television (not even on the _couch_ —she could see the screen better up close), video game controller in hand, and she hadn't bothered to shower in days.

This revelation came crashing down on her in a horrible wave. She was twenty-one. She had no job, no real friends. Her hopes died a long time ago. Because of her mental state, Loan was doomed to spend the rest of her life as a mooch, a failure, never being able to support herself.

In other words, she was a failure.

Thoughts like this didn't typically bother her. Loan had come to accept her life as it was. Tonight, though… it hit hard for some reason (maybe she was bipolar, too). Her body began to shake and she became unable to focus on the game in front of her. Quickly, she put down the controller. Loan made her way to the front door.

Liena looked up. "Uh, where are you going?"

"Out," she said simply, and left.

The night air was cool against her skin. It was getting dark; the streetlights were on. The moon shined brightly, illuminating the suburban street in front of her.

Loan walked, though she didn't know how long. She needed the bad thoughts to go away. She needed to escape.

Eventually, she came to the park, the very same park that she had wanted to go to during the morning of the day that she had helped her father clean out the attic. _Wow,_ she thought. _I haven't been_ here _in a while._

If her mind wasn't so clouded, Loan would be terrified. She was in a wide open place, after all—but she remained surprisingly calm. Her breathing was steady, her senses were sharp.

Automatically, she took the first path she saw. It led her into a wooded area. The forest was thick. She heard crickets chirping, and she saw a squirrel scurry its way across the path in front of her. Loan spotted a nearby park bench, and collapsed into it.

She looked around. _What am I doing?_ It was very unlike her to leave the house, let alone go very far. She had walked all the way to the park.

A man walking with a cane came up the path, and saw Loan. He tipped his hat. "Evenin'."

Loan's eyes go wide. W-Who _is_ this guy?

"Who a-are you?" she asked, frightened.

The man frowned. "Name's T-Bone, but I don't think I know you. Are… are you lost?"

Loan's fear intensified. She was going to lose her life this very night.

 _Fight. Defend yourself!_

No! He's just an old man! He won't hurt me!

 _Evil takes the form of innocence - you_ know _this, Loan. Save yourself! Attack!_

I-I can't! I'll get in trouble! He probably has a _family!_

You _have a family, Loan. Do you really want all of your siblings to have to go to your funeral? Do you want to_ die _at twenty-one?_

No!

 _Then_ fight!

Loan stood, and slowly approached the man. "Who _are_ you?" she repeated.

The man held up his walking stick and pointed it at Loan. "Lady, you need to back off. I don't mean to cause no trouble, you hear?" His voice is meek.

Loan froze in place. There is a moment of terrible tension as the two stare at one another… then, she chucked and scratched the back of her neck. "Oh, I'm sorry. I… for some reason, I thought you were _dangerous_." She laughed, hearing the absurdity of her paranoia out loud. Loan is surprised at how emotional that the admission makes her, and it wears her down; she feels light-headed.

The man put his walking cane back on the ground and chuckled. "Oh, no worries. You never know _who_ you'll run into at _this_ hour, I suppose."

The last syllable of his last word is cut off when Loan put her hands around his neck and squeezed. He tried to speak, then to yell, but is unable to. Her grip is too tight.

Eventually, the man becomes limp—lifeless—in the grasp of Loan.

 _I just killed a man._

She began to run away. Loan went as fast as she can, faster than she ever ran in her life. She needed to get away from the body, from the _murder_. She just took another human's life. It was hard to believe, but undeniably true. The grass, the field, it came back to her in this moment: the earth was wet, and mud stuck to her feet as she ran through the cornfield. She didn't care, though; Loan was having too much fun to care. Barefoot, she ran down the neverending field. She saw a tractor in the distance, big and red, and it was cutting down corn. Big, red, and shiny, glistening in the sun. Cutting the corn from the stem. Oh! How easily it cut down that corn! How easily the man became lifeless in her hands, so old and fragile and feeble. But she was protecting herself! She did it in _defense!_

Down the path she went, and up her street, heading back to her house. The lights were an orange blur, especially now that there were tears on Loan's eyes. What had she just _done?_

Loan Loud was twenty-one years old, and had just become a murderer.

* * *

 **A/N**

This is quite literally the first time I've ever put anything I've written online, so I really don't know what to expect. I've been reading fics on this site for some time, now, and the sin kids have always been interesting for me. Ever since learning about them, I've been fond of the characters and wanted to use them. This is where I start.

Reviews would be _greatly_ appreciated! I honestly have no idea what people are going to think of a story like this, and I'm hesitant to even continue. Was it good? Bad? Horrible? I'm open to all types of criticism, both in reviews and private messages—whatever you prefer.

Oh, and thank you for reading!


	2. One day later, things crumble more

**A/N**

Six reviews on my chapter, and five favorites. I didn't think I would get that many. It's not a hell of a lot, sure, but it's certainly more than I was initially expecting. I'd like to thank each and every one of you for your feedback on the story. I've had a lot of fun writing so far, and I think I just might make uploading to this site a regular thing.

As to the person who said chapter 1 was too short, I'm sorry. It was my first time submitting literature of anything kind to anywhere ever, and I was sort of testing the waters. It was almost two-thousand words, and I thought and more than that would be a bit too much for one chapter. Like I said, I have no idea what I'm doing. Glad you liked it, though! I'll make this one longer.

* * *

Loan Loud often didn't like to think about her past.

Her life right now, well… it left a lot to be desired. She spent most of her days indoors with minimal social interaction, either playing video games, whenever she began to feel anxious, listening to loud dubstep on her headphones in her room, lights off, on her bed and under her covers. She rarely paid much attention to her personal hygiene. She didn't have a driver's license, nor had she even ever tried getting her permit. She'd never been able to hold down a job for more than three days in a row. She had no real friends. Even her sisters, brother, aunts, mother, and father barely knew her - she never opened up to them, never made it an effort to talk to them, at least not on a deep level. The majority of her interactions were along the lines of, _hey, can you pass the milk?_ or, _hey, when are you going to finish watching TV? I kind of wanna play some video games._

In short, she was a loser.

Loan's past was much brighter. In her childhood, before she developed her fears and anxieties, before she became a social outcast, she was _happy._ She would spend many hours on the playground playing with other kids. Strangers would approach her. _Hey, want to build a sandcastle with me?_ She would _enjoy_ their company. Now, if somebody she didn't know so much as looked in their direction, she would begin to tremble with apprehension. If they approached her, she would _run._

Around age eight or nine, the first signs of mental illness began to manifest themselves. She started to not like going to the park as much - it frightened her. It… it was just so _open._ Any number of things could go wrong. Loan liked closed walls, she liked to _know_ what was around her. Her distaste for the park and the outdoors as a whole begin to grow into fear.

Her parents took her to the local health clinic. _What's wrong with our daughter?_ Loan didn't hear what the doctor said - she was too busy trembling in the corner of the room, trying to imagine she was somewhere else, _any_ where else but just one meter away from a man in a white suit with a weird instrument around his neck (which she later learned was called a _stethoscope)_ that was in all likeliness a torture device.

Later that day, when she was back in the safety of her own home, Loan could hear Mom and Dad arguing downstairs.

"I _knew_ having her was a bad idea!"

"That didn't stop you, though, now _did_ it!"

Right now, Loan was at her computer screen. Her bedroom lights were off and the curtains were drawn. The only light came from her monitor, and by now she was squinting - her eyes were beginning to hurt. Loan had been gaming nonstop for the past 18 hours.

Even _she_ made an effort to take a break every now and again, at _least_ to get a snack or use the bathroom. Now, though, that wasn't an option… last night, she had killed a man.

Loan knew for sure that if she left the safety of her room, she would look like a nervous wreck in the presence of her family… even more so than usual. _Especially_ more so, in fact. They would drill her for information, and eventually, she would break down and tell them. She just knew it.

So, here she stayed. Loan knew she couldn't hole herself up in her room forever. In fact, she would have to leave very soon; Dad made it a point to have the _whole_ family present at dinner. Unless you were eating out somewhere else, skipping dinner or eating later was not an option. In less than an hour, the meal would be ready, and Loan would have to come down.

But she wasn't ready! She would need _days_ , no, _weeks,_ to get a grip on herself… that was, of course, if the police didn't come knocking on the door before then. This wasn't _Macbeth…_ the police could easily search her fingerprints. She'd never been arrested before, but Loan was pretty sure the cops still had every citizen's prints on record - they took them at birth or something, right? Her fingerprints would be all _over_ the old man's neck, too. She had squeezed hard and long.

Onscreen, her character was grabbed from behind by an alien tentacle and lost his footing, falling to the ground. He was dragged into a black abyss, gone from sight, and blood shortly after sprayed out in a crimson splatter. The words **GAME OVER** flashed on her screen.

That would be _her_ when she was inevitably caught.

Loan trembled, and looked her desktop clock, and trembled. _6:02_. Dinner would be served before seven.

Her family would _know_ something was up when they saw her even more distraught than usual. She had to think of something, and fast. Loan began to sweat - her life depended on this. If she was confronted, she would cave in very quickly and confess everything. She would be put away in prison for decades for manslaughter, for _murder._

Then, she got an idea. An idea so stupidly simple she was surprised she didn't think of it before. All she had to do was _pretend_ that she was panicking for a _different_ reason. She could make something up! She, uh, saw a video online. She was searching the web, and she came across a video. A _disturbing_ video. With blood. Loan loved gory video games, but the video she saw was _really_ bad… so bad, in fact, that she would refuse to go into detail about it. Not because she never actually stumbled across a disturbing video, of course, but because it was just too traumatic to talk about.

 _Perfect._

Summoning the courage to go downstairs, she shut down her desktop and stood up. In the hallway, the lights nearly blinded her, stinging her eyes. Loan squinted and held her arm up, trying to block some of the harsh illumination.

Down the stairs she went, but before she made it to the living room carpet, she saw Mom on the couch… _crying?_ It was unlike her mother, Lori Loud, to show even the occasional bit of sadness. Loan couldn't even remember a time she had cried. Yet, right in front of her, the evidence was undeniable: her mother was sobbing.

For a bittersweet moment, the paranoia of her murder was quickly forgotten in place of sympathy. _Why_ the hell was mom crying? Loan needed to find out. She needed to _comfort her_ mother.

Slowly, she made her way down the rest of the stairs and over to the couch. She stopped, though, when she saw what Mom had in her hands. It was a photo album… it had pictures… pictures of Loan as a child.

Mom must have sensed her, though, because she quickly slammed the album shut and turned around. "Loan!" she said quickly. "You, uh, you've been in your room for a while, huh? I… I didn't' expect to see you."

Loan remained silent.

"So, how's it going? You ready for dinner?"

Loan said nothing, but she didn't need to; her expression said it all. _You're disappointed in me, aren't you?_

"Loan…" Mom said slowly, understanding that she wouldn't be able to pretend that her daughter hadn't seen what she had seen. "Look, you're my daughter, and I love you… don't ever think that I don't… it's just that… sometimes, well… sometimes, I don't think you're reaching your full potential… you know? You need to _apply_ yourself a little more… right? Sweetie?"

Lori stopped talking, and sighed; Loan had walked away into the kitchen.

* * *

Leni Loud was on the verge of tears. She, along with her brother and many of her sisters, had been cooking dinner in the kitchen. They stopped, however, when they heard crying.

It was unlike much of the crying she was used to. Usually, when someone wept, it was one of the smaller children, and over something trivial. _Lulu got slobber all over my toy! Lizy isn't sharing!_ These cries, though, sounded like they were coming from someone much older. Leni had peeked out from the side of the kitchen entrance, and saw that it was none other than her older sister of one year, _Lori_ , who was crying.

Lori was the toughest person Leni knew. She was smart, independent, and, quite frankly, sometimes downright _scary._ Maybe in their youth, Leni had seen Lori cry a few times over things like Bobby, but never _once_ had she cried as an adult. Something was wrong.

Leni was just about to go out and talk to her when Loan came down from the stairs, beating her to it. They exchanged some words. Leni tried to listen in but couldn't hear much of what was being said. They spoke too softly.

Eventually, Loan stormed into the kitchen, and she looked _mad_. She went past Leni and the others without saying a word.

"Loan!" Leni cried after her, but it was no use. She had went out the back door and into the backyard.

While Lincoln and the sisters that had been cooking in the kitchen went to go talk to Lori, Leni began to quickly chase after Loan. She wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was happening, and _fast._

"Loan! Wait!"

When Leni made her way out the back door, she saw Loan sitting on the swing that hung from the backyard tree branch, facing away from her. Leni scurried over.

"Loan?" she asked softly, putting her hand on her niece's shoulder. She jumped in fear. Whoops. Leni was a forgetful person, and though the tried her best, she sometimes forgot that Loan got scared easily than most other people.

"I'm sorry," apologized Leni. Then, she paused. "Loan…? What's wrong?"

Loan said nothing.

Sighing, Leni walked over to the tree and sat down with her back to the trunk, next to Loan.

"You know, talking will make you feel a lot better."

Loan remained silent, staring blankly ahead at nothing.

Leni sighed. She knew that Loan had all sorts of fears and special needs that she needed to take into account. She got startled early than the rest of her siblings, and Lori often told Leni _be careful around my daughter._ Leni knew it was _probably_ not the best idea to be talking to Loan right now… it was almost like poking a bear. Still, she wanted to _help._ She wanted to make Loan feel _better._

"It's… it's Mom," admitted Loan at last.

Success! Leni was finally getting somewhere.

"What did she do?" Leni asked softly.

"She's… disappointed in me. Her only daughter." She paused, sniffing. "It's not my _fault_ , though! I _want_ to be normal! I just _can't_. Not with my anxieties."

Leni felt horrible. Poor Loan!

"Lori - I mean, your mom - she doesn't _want_ normal. She wants _extranormal,_ or, at least, I think that's the word for it. She loves you no matter what, Loan. You need to understand that."

"Then why was she looking at pictures of me and _crying_ over them?"

This, Leni did not know. "I'll talk to her," she said. "I'll find out why."

"It's no use," Loan croaked. "She thinks I'm a failure."

"Oh, Loan. I really don't think that's what going on here."

"What do _you_ know?"

Leni wanted to press on, but didn't know what to say. After a little thinking, she got up, and left Loan by saying, "I don't know much, Loan, but I do know that your mother only wants what's best for you. She loves you. She cares about you. Please… don't jump to conclusions. It's not healthy."

Loan didn't notice aunt Leni leave. She was too caught up in her own little world, just like always. She sat there alone on the swing for a long time, although exactly how long, she did not know.

An uncomfortable thought races through her mind: _Did Mom find out I committed murder?_ Loan quickly brushed this thought away, however, when she realized that no, that would be stupid. Mom loved her children, but she was also a strict follower of the law. If someone in the family did something like _that,_ she would be the first to call the police on them. One time, when she overheard Lyra bragging over the phone to one of her friends that she had egged one of her teacher's house, the police showed up at the door ten minutes later; Mom had called them. Loan knew for certain if she found out one of the Louds had committed _murder_ , she'd have the cops over to the house within minutes.

Loan thought that almost for certain that she saw Mom crying because she was ashamed of her, but after what Aunt Leni said, she wasn't sure _what_ to believe anymore.

Liena eventually came out, looking concerned. She put a hand to Loan's shoulder. "You okay?"

" _No,_ Liena," snapped Loan. "I'm not ' _okay'._ How would _you_ like it to not be able to do anything? To be too scared to go outside? To be unable to hold down a job or get your driver's license? How would you like _fear_ to dominate your life day in and day out without fail? How would you like to be blessed with several serious mental diseases because your parents are promiscuous, sinful creatures? How would you like to want with every fiber of your being, with every _ounce_ of your willpower to be able to _change,_ to be _normal,_ but always fall short because of the mess that is your brain? How would _you_ like to have your mother and father be disappointed in you, and want nothing more than to just make them _proud_ for even _once_ in your miserable fucking life? How would you like _that,_ Leina?"

She trembled. "I-I… I guess I wouldn't like it very much," she said quietly.

Loan sighed, and got up. She slowly walked ahead, silent, before reaching the backyard fence and putting her arms down on it. She slumped onto the fence in defeat, still unwilling to look at Liena. "Look, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to snap at you… you've done nothing wrong."

"It's okay, Loan. You're my sister, I'll support you no matter what."

 _Even if I killed someone?_ Loan wanted to say, but didn't.


	3. She makes a scene at the train station

**A/N**

To the reviewer unfamiliar with the Sin Kid OCs, just look up "Sin Kids by Patanu" in google images. The first picture you see is a helpful picture guide, but for clarity's sake, I'll also list the names and ages here:

Lulu: 1

Lizy: 3

Leia: 6

Lemy: 9

Lupa: 12

Lacy: 12

Liby: 14

Lyra: 17

Liena: 19

Loan: 21

* * *

You know that song that goes _I'm easy like Sunday mooooorning?_

It was stuck in Lemy Loud's head. It had been all morning.

Last night, Dad had found an old CD with hits from his childhood. It was 2018, and Lemy personally preferred his music to be digital, but he guessed that back in the 90's when Dad grew up, CDs were the thing that everyone did. Whatever.

He'd been listening to old music all morning, and he was actually starting to have fun. Then, Loan walked downstairs. She was acting… _off_. She was shaky, and there were telltale beads of sweat on her forehead. Lemy was only nine, but he knew that sweating and shaking constantly wasn't normal, even for Loan.

"Hey, you good?" he asked.

Loan snapped her head to him as if he had just said something shocking. "I, uh, I… yeah."

If her answer was anything to go by, Lemy knew that Loan was _not_ good.

The good mood that he'd been in from discovering Dad's favorite childhood songs melted away, and was replaced by worry for Loan. Oh, boy, what was she up to _now?_

Come to think of it, Loan had been acting funny for the past couple of days. Lemy understood his oldest sister suffered from anxiety among other things, and she had sometimes periods of mental instability… but there was something different about this. He didn't know what exactly was extra out of the ordinary about Loan's behavior, but it was _something,_ and he didn't like it.

"Wanna chill with me and Dad?"

"No thanks," she said quickly, and speed walked out the front door.

Lemy frowned. It was rare for Loan to go outside, even just to the backyard.

He looked over to Dad, who was sitting on the couch and bobbing his head to the music.

"Hey, pops," said Lemy, sitting next to him. "Have you noticed Loan acting funny the past couple of days?"

He thought, and shrugged his shoulders. "She's _always_ acting 'funny', Lemy. Your sister, well… she has a lot of mental disadvantages. Of course, that doesn't mean we love her any less, right?"

"Right, but it's just that she's been acting _really_ funny lately. Have you noticed?"

"Can't say I have. I've been caught up with work - the company is being sued and things are tense." He got up, walked over to the CD player, and turned it off. "Enough of that. Hey, Lemy?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you can talk to Loan? See if she's alright?"

"Sure thing, Dad," he said, and got up, walking to the living room window. He looked around outside. Loan was nowhere to be found.

 _Damn,_ _she already ran off_.

Lemy debated in his head whether to follow her or just wait for her to come back before talking to her. On one hand, Loan was twenty-one. Despite her mental disabilities, she was an adult. Besides, Lemy didn't know which way she went or where she was going. On the other, though, there was the off chance she could get herself into some trouble. Was it worth it to try tracking her down?

Lemy sighed. He tried calling her, but, of course, she didn't pick up.

Looking for her was pointless, he decided. She could be _anywhere_ by now.

* * *

Loan Loud didn't know where she was. The thought of her murder in the park kept coming to her, but she violently pushed it away. Eventually, though, this grew increasingly difficult, so she figured she would benefit from some fresh air, a walk on the town.

Loan walked out of the house to clear her head. Usually, the open outdoors terrified her, but right now, she didn't mind as much as she usually would. Her mind went blank, and she soon found herself indoors at the Royal Woods train station.

Maybe a train ride would help clear her mind.

She went up to the information desk. "Is this where I go if I have a question?" Loan asked the person behind the counter. He was tall, but Loan was taller.

And he said, "Sure is, honey."

And Loan said, "Is this London?"

And he said, "Indeed it is."

And Loan said, "What's the shortest train route I can take right now?"

And the man said to Loan, "Take the route to Hazeltucky, honey. Or to Huntington Oaks. Either one of those are the shortest.

And Loan said, "How do I get a ticket?"

And he said, "Are you for real?"

And I Loan didn't say anything.

And he said, "Over there. See that booth with the big sign that says _tickets_? Go there."

She bought her ticket but then wasn't sure where to go to get on the train. So, Loan walked back outside of the train station. She overheard a woman nearby talking on the phone."

"Yeah, yeah, son of a bitch scammed me." She paused. "He's not around anymore." Another pause. "Probably got fired. Dude's unhinged." Pause. " _Tell_ me about it!" She laughed. "I hope I don't see him ever again." Another pause, the longest one yet. "Gosh, I don't see why not."

Although it was very unlikely, Loan was _positive_ that the woman was talking about the man that Loan murdered. Afraid that the women would look at Loan and recognize her as the murderer (which, later, Loan found didn't mean a great deal of sense - no one was around to witness her killing the man in the park), Loan began to sprint down the sidewalk. She ran through downtown Royal Woods, and then started to scream like a banshee, moving swiftly down the sidewalk, flailing her arms behind her and banging my them on various walls. A teenager was sitting on a bench with his guitar and singing a song, and Loan tap-danced, moaning, in front of them before she moved like a zombie toward a clothing store, where she rushed over to the first tie rack she saw and murmured to the young man working behind the counter, referring to her murder, "I can't believe I did it," while fondling a silk dress (she did this just because of how _pure_ the dress was! It was long, beautiful and white, innocent, and Loan feared that, by touching it, she would stain it with her dirty hands. No water could wash away the murder that was on her hands. Filthy hands were what Loan had, _filthy!_ ) She quickly stepped back from the dress, disgusted.

The man gave a look of deep concern and asked Loan if she was okay.

"I'll see you in hell," Loan said. Then, she moved on.

* * *

Lori Loud was waiting outside of the train station. She had a ride to catch to Detroit, where she would be having a lunch meeting with a client. She worked as a lawyer for a company that fixed up houses. Lana worked for the same company, but as a head contractor.

Her phone rang, and Lori fished it out of her pocket. A co-worker friend was calling. She answered.

"Jean? Good to hear from you. Yeah, yeah, son of a bitch scammed me." She paused. "He's not around anymore." Another pause. "Probably got fired. Dude's unhinged." Pause. " _Tell_ me about it!" She laughed. "I hope I don't see him ever again." Another pause, the longest one yet. "Gosh, I don't see why not." She laughed again. "Okay, Jean. I gotta catch a train soon, so I'll talk to you later. Alright. Bye."

She hung up, and as she put her phone away, Lori noticed a woman running away like a freak, arms flailing behind her. She did a double take, and looking harder, she saw that the person running away was… _Loan?_ What was her daughter doing on the other side of town at the train station? She was usually _terrified_ of the outdoors.

The lawyer sighed. Her daughter was… special. She used that word with as much love as possible. She loved Loan, but sometimes, wondered what it would be like if she had a normal conception and birth.

She wondered a lot.


End file.
